


Tubbo Gets Trapped Under Rubble. :what will he do;

by Luriua



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst ig?, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad!Wilbur, Discord Made me, Gen, Good!Schlatt, L’Manburg, Passing Out, Shipping Paradise (Discord), Violence, a lot of blood, injuries, manburg, poor tubbo man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luriua/pseuds/Luriua
Summary: Explosions, injuries.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 76





	Tubbo Gets Trapped Under Rubble. :what will he do;

**Author's Note:**

> No shipping! Ty.

The podium flashed, being purple then the next second being red. All the playful yellows and reds all turned dark orange and yellows. He felt himself get flung, his senses almost immediately cutting out. He could barely make out someone calling his name, but he couldn’t tell if it was real or not. Maybe no one cared, maybe it was all in his head. Hopefully not.

He felt his body became stabilized, somehow. He no longer felt cool air sweep under his arms and legs making him feel free like a bird. his head was swimming through an ocean of messed up thoughts and speculations as his vision faded in and out. It hurts, it hurts so much. He tried to toon out the faded booms in the background. They hurt his head more. 

He curled in on himself in an attempt to stop the burning pain in his head. It felt like vicious pounding, he felt like he was going to die. His hand grabbed the side of his ear, feeling a sticky liquid dripping down. He felt his breath stop as he moved his hand slowly to his face, blood. He was bleeding. Maybe it wasn’t just a thought about death.

How did he even make it in the air, was he even in the air or was that just his mind telling him he was. Why is he bleeding? So many questions, it all hurt his head. He felt so weak. So scared. He wanted Tommy, he needed Tommy. He unconsciously whined out for his best friend. The corners of his vision turned black, and he couldn’t tell why. He remembers schlatts praises for decoration, but that’s about it. Before he could even think about something else, he saw the podium.

He tried to move away, but his body felt so weak. He couldn’t even feel it hit him before it all became the endless void Schlatt promised he would never have to see. He promised, he promised. He... promise...d to keep...me safe. He... pro...mis..ed.

——————————————————

“Tubbo!” Tommy screamed through the blazing flames, almost tripping into one of the craters. His whole body burned from the flames sinking into his skin, to which he ignored the flaming pain. What if tubbo got badly hurt? What if he’s already gone. Wait no, think good thoughts. He can’t be that badly hurt, even though most of tnt was exactly where he was standing. And I saw him fling into the air. Well shit. That can’t be good, well tubbo had to be ok! He has to. Another explosion knocked him off his path, however he quickly got back on. 

His screams couldn’t be heard from outside of the thick fog, the once clear sky turned into smog. He coughed and stepped over a fallen fence. He was about to the podium now, but it wasn’t there. 

Instead it was on the ground, a small figure’s head resting ontop of the rubble. “Tubbo!?” Tommy shouted. That couldn’t be tubbo, right? It made Tommy sick to think about tubbo. How excited he had been for the festival, setting up the decorations like a kid planning his own birthday party. How schlatt patted his head and lead him to the podium for his speech. How he had the biggest brightest smile you could muster. How his eyes practically sparkled with excitement.

He shook away the bad thoughts and rushed over. It can’t be tubbo, there’s no way! Seeing the nest of soft brown hair confirmed his suspicion. That’s tubbo all right, he could recognize his hair anywhere. 

Fuck.

A scream erupted from his throat as he ran, ignoring the small cuts the pieces of rock gave him. He fell a couple times, but he had more things to worry about then a couple small bruises. He ran to his best mans side, quickly pulling him out of the broken rocks. He scanned his face for any injuries, His face was covered in cuts, a huge gash on the right side of his face. His suit was torn and he had a scar going down his chest. Another down his leg. 

Hot tears streamed down his face, he can’t. His best man, his best friend. Laying in his arms injured. He took ragged breaths as he calmed himself, trying to look at his eyes instead.

His eyes were closed. Was he dead? Oh fuck, oh shit no. He quickly grabbed his wrist, hands finding the general area for a pulse. He felt his breathing stopped as he searched for a pulse, even a small one. He felt one, barely. He breathed a sigh of relief even though he didn’t feel any. He’s not dead though, and that’s what counts. He picked him up bridal style as to not hurt his wounds.

Even though he’s not dead now he’s loosing a lot of blood. He isn’t immortal. I rip off the bottom of my pants and make a makeshift bandage. This should stop some bleeding. I place it on his face since that seems it be loosing the most amount of blood. That’s logical right? I wrap it around, being careful to not hurt anything else in the process. 

I pick him up, and begin running. I don’t think I’ve ever run faster, I feel like I’m floating as my feet barely touch the floor before there up in the again. The trees and branches make it hard to navigate through the wooded forest. I almost trip a couple times, but I steady myself before running again.

I see pogtopia approaching and I get ready to run down the stairs. Stupid Wilbur and his stupid button. He caused this. I make it down and place Tubbo in the medbay. I frown as I grab gauze and some bandages. I should have taken up his offer on running away.

I make my way over to his bed and begin gently wrapping the injuries, starting with his face. I take off the Jean and begin with some real bandages. After finishing I move on to the next, and the next. 

I let out a sigh of relief as I place the bandages on the bedside, moving over and sitting on the bed next to tubbo. Inviting myself. I look down at him, scanning his face for any form of discomfort. I smile seeing none and lay my head against the bed frame. 

Maybe. Just maybe. He will be ok.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this half asleep, short.


End file.
